A Certain Point of View Chapter 6, a bubblegum crisis fanfic

Quincy stood in his new office looking down at his city. It had taken some serious bribes to persuade the government to replace the old head of AD-Police. It was a shame really. Except for his attitude towards the Knight Sabers he was more than competent. Quincy frowned. He could not afford that attitude now. Fujiura was a political pensioner. He would do anything necessary to save his job. In every way Quincy respected the old chief more. That didn't change what needed to done. He turned his back on the city and faced Madigan. "The nano-tank is prepared?"

Madigan nodded. "Yes sir. The old program was removed and the new one put in place." She paused. "Sir. How can you be sure that the Chang Conglomerate will let the Knight Sabers use it?" Nano-tanks were the single most expensive piece of equipment on the planet. If the Knight Sabers didn't use it, then they had essentially given this one to the enemy.

Quincy looked at his assistant. Madigan had stabilized into the kind of professional Quincy needed. Her rivalry with Mason had tempered her mind into a blade of steel. "Know your enemy and know yourself Madigan. With those two pieces of knowledge you will usually win any conflict." He paused. "Four months ago the nano-tank was programmed to make any boomer AI produced in it unstable. That would have resulted in the Chang Conglomerate's eventual demise over time. We can no longer afford to wait. The alliance between the Knight Sabers and the Hou Bang must be stopped. If the Hou Bang were to mass produce the combat armor of the Knight Sabers they would become a serious threat."

Madigan thought about it. "So you think that the Chang Conglomerate will give the nano-tank to the Knight Sabers to facilitate production of new suits. When the new program is triggered the result should destroy them." She paused thoughtfully. "Why don't we add a radio link to the tank. Using that we could acquire the Knight Sabers technology for ourselves."

Quincy nodded. He had considered it. "That idea is, unfortunately, unlikely to work and it may lead to either the Chang Conglomerate or the Knight Sabers discovering the hidden program. No, I believe the program alone has a better chance for success. When playing against a highly intelligent opponent it is better not to complicate your plans. If the program works as we expect it to we will soon have their technology anyway."

Madigan nodded. "So now it's just a matter of allowing the Hou Bang to 'steal' the nano-tank."

Quincy smiled coldly. "Exactly."

Matter Over Mind Productions

Presents

Mega-Tokyo 2032

The Knight Sabers

"A Certain Point of View."

Chapter 6 "The Best Laid Plans"

Chaz shook his golden hair out of his eyes again as he turned the KnightWing towards the rendezvous. Despite his relatively cool exterior Chaz was very excited. He'd been waiting for this day for over a month. Chin had called and told him to bring the KnightWing back to Hawaii for delivery of the nano-tank. He also had to pick up Mackie and Nene. He grinned. Both of them had been extremely quiet about what she looked like now. He hadn't even been able to talk Irene into telling him. Ah well. . .He'd see her soon anyway. He looked down at the navigation console. Hmm. . . Another hour at the least. It had taken him almost a week to learn to fly the KnightWing. He was constantly amazed out how much his learning curve had changed. It would normally have taken him a month to learn how to fly something like this. His responses had adjusted in an hour and he had managed to pick up the mental part of it fairly quickly. It was just a matter of experience now.

He ran another complete system check on the plane. He didn't really expect to find anything wrong. There just wasn't much else to do. He grimaced as his code breaking program gave him another no go. Shit! Mackie had those video files locked down tighter than a virgin's corset. He had Newton trying since takeoff to break the damn thing.

/Well/

-Sorry boss.- Came the light contralto of Newton. -Mackie has that thing sealed tight.-

Figures. If anyone ever found them he would die a gruesome, painful death.

/Okay. Leave it alone for now./

-Gotcha boss-

Chaz winced. Despite frequent attempts to expunge certain parts of the personality overlay he was still unable to rid it of the habit of calling him that. Even Nene had been unable to help. The code was designed to alter itself to fit his system. The second she had finished uploading the damn thing she'd pretty much ensured that no one could change it. It could have been worse. He could have carrying around Priss's personality inside his head. The Nene overlay he could largely ignore and at times it was actually useful. Sighing deeply he brought the KnightWing closer to the ground and prepared for landing.

With a pneumatic hiss, the gangway sprang to the ground. Chaz ignored the ladder and sprang quickly to the ground. Already, three technicians were throwing camouflage over the black skinned craft. Irene, Mackie, Kou and a beautiful red-head that had to be Nene waited off to the side as attendants rushed up to begin loading the nano-tank into the sealed off cargo area and refueling the KnightWing. Chaz fully scanned the red-head gave a mental whistle. Yup. Definitely Nene. He grinned as the group surrounded him. "C'mon folks. It hasn't been that long," he said as he returned hugs and handshakes all around.

Nene looked up at him serenely. "Well?" she asked.

Chaz's grin grew even larger. "What do you want me to say? You look phenomenal." In truth she looked even better than that. Whoever had done the bio-sculpt had taken Mackie's ideas and run with them. Her skin glowed with life and Nene's eyes had become positively magnetic. She stood a little taller than before and her hair looked like copper-red silk in sunlight. She was, he admitted, one of the most impressive women it had ever been his pleasure to see. He wondered if she knew what this was going to do to her life. Probably not. He sighed internally and kept the grin despite provocation. "So what do you people say to partying our brains out until it's time to go home tomorrow?"

Kou frowned slightly and looked as if he was going to object. Before he could open his mouth to say one word he was shouted down by the other three.

Chaz swept his hand towards the helicopter. "Great! Let's head into Honolulu then."

Chaz looked out of the helicopter and tried to fight off the depression that threatened him. The city seemed to fill the island. When he had left, only South shore had a serious problem with urbanization. Now all of Oahu looked like a scaled down Mega-Tokyo. Hell, even half the signs were in Japanese. Not that that was such a huge change.

Focusing his eyes tightly he looked at Hanauma Bay as they passed by. Not too bad. The coral even seemed to have made some recovery since he'd last seen it. Either that or someone had genetically engineered a polyp that could take the punishment. Every year thousands of tourists had mobbed the snorkeling Mecca and crushed the coral into near extinction. Even in his own time people had been warned that the reef ecosystem couldn't handle the pressure. He sighed tiredly.

Nene looked up from her conversation with Irene. "What's wrong Chaz?" she asked in a concerned voice.

Chaz waved off the question. "Nothing. Just comparing my memories with what's here now." He looked up at her stunned expression. "I'm sorry. I thought I'd told you. I lived in Hawaii for almost six years." He gestured to the urban jungle beneath them. "With the exception of the coastline almost everything has changed." That wasn't entirely true. In some places even the coastline was altered. Wiping the thoughts from his mind he put a smile back on his face. "So. What are we going to do tonight?" With a rise in volume everybody tried to express their thoughts at once. In the enthusiasm Chaz's earlier feelings evaporated. Mostly.

"Do we really HAVE to go in here?" Chaz asked hopefully as he looked at the club's entrance.

Nene, dressed to the nines in a green, skin tight dress grabbed his arm to drag him inside. "Of course we do. It's the oldest nightclub in Waikiki. It also plays the latest J-pop."

Chaz shrugged and allowed himself to be dragged inside. He knew all of that already. When he had lived in Hickam AFB years ago Maharaja's had been one of his main hangouts. He'd kind of hoped that they would go to one of the newer clubs. Ah well. . .at least he knew what to expect here.

Mackie held his breath as Chaz approached the dance floor again. After getting over his initial embarrassment at being the only dancer on the floor Chaz had turned out to be quite good at it. No, Mackie corrected himself. That was kind of like saying Linna was quite a good dancer. While there were obvious differences in style it was obvious that Chaz was as good in his way as Linna was in hers. It helped, of course, that his body didn't get tired and was capable of just about anything he could imagine.

Mackie had to admit that it had been a very interesting evening. First, the gate cashier had tried to stiff them for a sixty dollar entrance fee. Chaz had soon straightened that out. Turns out that you only had to pay that if you were a tourist who didn't tip. Chaz didn't have that problem and refused to pay the premium.

Second, Chaz had been attracting women all night. At first Mackie had been envious. HE'D never attracted women. At least not like that. The longer the night wore on though, the more he saw that the older man didn't like and didn't want the attention. Some of the women had gone so far as to call him a faggot as they stormed off. Chaz had just shrugged and gone back to sipping his Coke.

It hadn't helped that he and Kou had walked in with the two most beautiful women in Hawaii on their arms. This had the net effect of increasing attention turned their way and highlighting the fact that Chaz wasn't here with anyone.

That brought him neatly to the third most interesting thing this evening. Not necessarily the third nicest. Kou hadn't had any problem keeping men away from Irene. By and large she took care of the problem herself. Usually she turned down their offers gently. In tougher cases one glare from her was enough to send even the most dedicated pick-up artist looking for easier prey. Nene on the other hand seemed to revel in the attention she received. Mackie reached over and sipped morosely at his bourbon. Turning his head to the side a little he could see where Nene was still dancing on the raised stage surrounded by admirers. He could understand it of course. This was the first time she'd been out in public in her new body. If she wanted to show it off a bit that was her right. He just wished he knew a way to convince himself of that. Slamming back the rest of his drink, he flagged down a waitress to order another.

Kou staggered back to the table with a still bubbling Irene on his arm. In theory he was in better shape than her. However, as many men had found out to their dismay, raw physical stamina and dancing stamina are not always equal. Sitting heavily, he snatched up his water glass and drained it. Much better. Resting comfortably in his chair he allowed his gaze to slowly take in the room. Still no sign of trouble. Good. He didn't feel like hurting anyone tonight. He hadn't really liked the idea of coming into the city without bodyguards but Irene had been adamant. Finishing his scan of the room he let his gaze fall on Irene who was still talking animatedly to Nene. Hmm. . . Something missing. Pulling out a mental checklist he began to quickly review items. One didn't survive long in his profession by being less than fast and thorough. He spotted the problem in seconds. "Where's Mackie?" he said looking around. Nene blinked and looked up guiltily. Kou stifled a comment. She had been ignoring him all evening. Small wonder that the boy had wandered off. Kou frowned. He couldn't leave these two until Chaz came back from the floor. Damn. He scanned the crowd again. Still no sign of the teen. Kou reached into his coat and pulled out a pocket flashlight. With a quick flip of his wrist he turned on the beam and aimed it at Chaz's head.

The result was all he'd hoped for. With a theatrical flourish Chaz finished dancing and exited the floor as smoothly as if he'd rehearsed it. The white suited man walked to the table and sat. "What's up Kou?" He glanced around as he downed his Coke. "Where's Mackie?" he asked as he finished his drink. Kou nodded to himself. It had taken him the same amount of time to notice the absence. "Exactly. As best I can figure he was here fifteen minutes ago."

Chaz looked over at Nene. "I thought you were with him." It wasn't quite a rebuke.

"I was out on the dance floor up until a few minutes ago. I didn't realize he'd wandered off." She had the grace to look embarrassed. "So should we look for him?" she asked meekly.

Chaz shook his head. "No. You two stay with Kou. I'll find him." Ignoring her protests Chaz got up and moved steadily through the crowd in search of his prey.

Irene looked over at Kou. "Aren't you going to help?"

Kou swirled the water around in his glass thoughtfully before answering. "He's right. One of us has to stay with you two and he has a much better chance of finding Mackie."

Irene was indignant. "I'm not a child you know. I can take care of myself!"

Kou shrugged it off. "It's not just a matter of taking care of yourself. You sometimes forget. But this is part of my job."

Irene gave him a withering glare. "And when you slept with me the other night? Was that just part of the job too?"

Nene stifled a gasp. THAT was definitely hitting below the belt.

Kou seemed to take it in stride. "You know it wasn't. And if you would stop acting foolish and think for a moment you'd know why."

Irene rocked back as if she'd been slapped. Fire roared behind her eyes for a moment before cooling to a more reasonable level. "I know Kou. I'm sorry. I just resent being in a position where a bodyguard of any kind becomes necessary. You know that."

Kou nodded. Even as a child Irene had objected to the constant supervision and shadowing that was a fact of life for anyone with real power.

Chaz looked around carefully. Hmm. Not in the bar anyway. Chaz walked down the stairs and out the door, relaxing slightly as the door closed and damped the blaring stereo. Where would he go if he thought he'd been jilted by his girlfriend? The hotel? Nah. Hmm. Chaz inhaled deeply, allowing the night air to trickle across his palate. Not too long ago anyway. Mackie's scent should be easy enough to follow. With a quick step Chaz strode off into the neon-lit night.

Mackie tossed another stone into the water and watched it vanish with the next wave. What was the matter with her? She hadn't said ten words to him all night. At first it had seemed like a dream. Nene was every man's fantasy. When she'd left the bio-sculpt tank he'd thought his heart would burst. He'd spent most of day in front of the mirror watching her look at herself. So why was she ignoring him now? Story of his life it seemed. As soon as things start to look up the universe poked him in the gut again. Behind him he heard a shuffle as rocks moved under a boot. He appreciated the politeness. Chaz could have come up on him without any noise at all if he had wished to. Mackie turned and looked over his shoulder. The boomeroid didn't seem to be paying much attention to him at the moment. He was just standing on top of the wave break looking out to sea. Wonder what he sees when he looks out there? Lucky bastard. He doesn't even have to try to get girls. What does he do with it? Nothing! What a waste. Turning his attention away from Chaz, Mackie looked back at the ocean.

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" Chaz's voice said softly behind him.

Mackie's head came up in anger then settled down again. How could he understand?

Chaz ignored the obvious snub. "You aren't being entirely fair.. Granted Nene should've have paid a bit more attention to you. But that's no excuse to walk off like a wounded puppy."

Mackie steadfastly ignored him. What did he know about it? Stupid android probably didn't have feelings anyway. The more rational part of his mind knew that was unfair. The emotional part didn't give a damn.

Chaz looked down at Mackie. Typical teen dementia. God. Is this how I used to react? What a moron. I don't know how people put up with me. Giving a mental sigh Chaz knelt down behind Mackie. If you want to reason with mule first you have to get its attention. Grabbing the teen by his jeans and shirt Chaz tossed him into the water. Sitting himself on the vacated rock he waited patiently until Mackie's torrent of verbal abuse petered out. It went on for quite a while and Chaz was impressed by the flow of invective. Not once did Mackie repeat himself. Giving him a grin, the boomeroid waved the fuming adolescent back to shore. "You done?" he asked politely. The glare Mackie sent his way was definitely of the 'If looks could kill' variety. So it was just as well that they couldn't. "Good. Feeling better now?"

Mackie's face twisted in thought. The odd thing was he did feel better. Not phenomenal, just better. Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Good. Now maybe you'll listen for a moment." He paused and looked down at the shivering youth. "Here." Mackie took the proffered suit jacket and huddled on the rock. "Why did you walk out?"

The rage built and spilt out of the teen. "She was ignoring me! I waited outside of that tank for days while she was in there!"

"Uh huh. So rather than share her a little or telling her that you felt left out, you'd rather run off in a jealous snit. Real bright. Did it ever occur to you that maybe she wasn't used to the attention?" Mackie shrugged. "Right. Probably never even crossed your mind. A couple things to think about. One, Nene loves you. Not those guys she was dancing with. Two, she's not going to know how to deal with people's reactions to her. Right now it seems great. Wait a couple weeks. That's when the realization will settle in." He frowned at Mackie's skeptical expression and shook his head. "Be very careful what you wish for. You might get it. Nene's probably going to regret becoming as beautiful as she is." Chaz eyes stared hard into Mackie's. "That's when YOU are going to have to support her. If you don't you'll lose her forever. THAT I can promise." You'll deserve it too. He relaxed back into a normal posture. "Now let's see if we can't get you dry, cleaned up and back before the club closes."

Priss was pissed. Not surprising to those that knew her. Priss seemed to be upset roughly forty percent of the time. Another thirty percent she spent sleeping. Which means if you met her on the street you had, at best, about a fifty-fifty chance of catching her in a good mood. If you were lucky, the rest of the time her ire wouldn't be directed at you. The hotheaded vocalist grinned in grim satisfaction. Chaz wasn't lucky. Now it was just a matter of informing him of his situation. In the week since he'd gotten back from Hawaii Priss had seen him a total of three times. He hadn't even called. Well… yes he had, but not enough. The singers lips quirked a bit. To put it in his own words, Chaz was up the proverbial waste water channel without a means of locomotion.

If she could've she would have slammed the door. As it was she gave it a kick as it closed. Not quite as good, but it made her feel better. Stepping into the nano-tank storage room, Priss checked for signs of her quarry. Nothing. Just the nano-tank and its controlling computers beeping disturbed the silence. A three dimensional image of the tank's current project spun silently above a holo-stage. Where was that misbegotten asshole? Sylia had said she could find him down here somewhere.

Curious despite herself she moved closer to the holographic projection stage. She quickly stifled an urge to drool. THAT'S what he was working on? She considered it for a moment. For this she could ALMOST forgive him. Checking the controls carefully, Priss stopped the spin to look more closely. The bike hung in the air like a mechanics wet dream. From what she could see it looked as if it had been designed to be built in a nano-tank. It had the smooth, almost melted, look that typified such creations. Hardly daring to breathe Priss stepped over to the transparent plas-steel cylinder and looked inside. Half hidden by the clouds of industrious nanites, the frame of the bike floated serenely in a support net. Mentally, Priss licked her chops. She wanted it. There was not a doubt in her mind that she'd get it either. Running her hand over the cylinder she whispered. "You're mine."

"Think so huh?" Chaz said with a chuckle behind her.

Priss fought the urge to jump. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Quickly calming herself she turned around slowly giving him her best glare. Years of street training kept her rock steady. When in doubt go on the offensive. "Yes I do!" she hurled back at him. "You owe me this for ignoring me for the past week!"

Chaz leaned back against the security door with an amused expression on his face. "Really?" he asked with enough sarcasm in his voice to drop a buffalo.

Priss didn't even blink. "Goddamn straight you do! You fly off to Hawaii leaving me behind, on a weekend no less! You come back and sequester yourself in this technological hermitage for a week without giving me even a single phone call! You owe me more than just the bike you owe me dinner too!"

Chaz grinned. He could've argued that he had seen her a few times in the past week. However, he knew from experience that she would find some way to wiggle out of it or turn it against him. Instead he waved at the tank. "Alright. If you can ride her she's yours."

Joy lit up Priss's face momentarily. Then it clouded over with suspicion. "What are you up to? You never give in that easily."

Chaz shrugged. "I meant what I said. IF you can ride it you can have it. Of course the engine won't even start without a direct radio command from my AI."

Priss looked at him aghast. "You absolute bastard! You did that on purpose!" She looked back at the bike naked longing written all over her face. "I can't even borrow it?" she said lustfully.

Chaz walked up behind her. "Nope. But I wouldn't let that bother you too much. Mackie and I designed one for you too. It doesn't have this one's options but it'll outperform any other bike on the street."

Priss spun and threw her arms around his neck. "Really?" She watched his nod. She flashed him a coy grin. "You may just get out of this in one piece yet. When will it be finished?"

Chaz waved back at the tank. "When that one's finished we can start yours right away. Sylia refuses to produce any of the suits or other sensitive equipment in that thing until she's finished going over the programming. She thinks GENOM might have pulled a fast one. Until then, no Knight Saber equipment gets built. Personally I think she's being a little paranoid."

Priss frowned a little. Sylia wasn't paranoid, just extremely and justifiably cautious. "So why is she letting you build this?"

"It's all off-the-shelf technology that GENOM already has. Besides there's no independent control structure in it. It has a complex computer but no AI. The new suits will have subsidiary AIs. We can't afford to have those screw up." Reaching down Chaz swept Priss up into a carrying position. So what do you want to do for the next fourteen hours while we wait for it to finish?"

Priss smiled languidly. "I think we'll find something to keep us occupied."

Chuckling slightly Chaz carried Priss out of the room.

In the vacated room the nano-tank continued its work. Deep in the heart of the support fluid a cloud of nanites gathered. When the cloud had collapsed to a small, black sphere an intelligence awoke. For the fourth time it checked the current design for certain conditions and parts. For the fourth time it failed to find what it was looking for. The intelligence was not disappointed. That was not part of its programming. It was as patient as time itself. With a mental shrug the intelligence gave the signal to separate. Saving the thoughts of the last few seconds in their structures the nanites separated to rejoin their brethren. The control computers noted an interruption and readjusted their time completion estimates by a couple seconds. Work returned to normal.

Ruddy orange sunlight streamed almost unwillingly into the apartment. It wasn't the kind of place it felt welcome. The sun slowly rose and the stream of light passed over the discarded cartons of takeout Chinese and empty bottles of Wild Turkey. Stretched out in a completely disarrayed bed a fully clothed Leon McNichol slept the sleep of the just. Or at least the sleep of the extremely hung over. With a roar of white noise and beeping the battered alarm on the side table went off.

Leon struggled against the constriction of his blankets and the pounding of his head. With a barely coherent thought he reached out an arm and silenced the source of his agony. Memories from the previous evening returned to him. Well, he'd done it. The card Jeena had given him had lain in his desk for days staring back at him every time he'd opened his drawer. Until last night.

No matter how many times he ran it through his head he couldn't justify it to himself. Now it was too late. Justified or not he was irrevocably committed. After he'd hung up the phone he'd gone into the bathroom and thrown up. Following that he'd gotten drunk. Digging deep he found the energy to smile. Usually it was the other way around. In two days he'd be back at work. Then the real hell would begin. Stumbling to the sink he rinsed out his mouth and stared at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Well Leon. What do you do now?

Nene and Sylia leaned back from their computer terminals. Nene reached over and started signing out of the mainframe.

"Not yet Nene." Sylia said from her position by the other terminal.

Nene stopped in mid-keypress. "Aw. C'mon Sylia. We've searched through every line of code in the machine and pulled down technical specs on every component. If there was something there to find we would have seen at least a hint."

Sylia shook her head. "This is too easy. Quincy is much too slippery not to have a contingency set up for this." The beautiful scientist thought for a moment. "But at the moment you seem to be right. We need a break. Tomorrow we'll start a complete hardware scan and component breakdown. After that we'll do a physical check of each of the components against their technical specs.

"Won't we have to pull down the system for that?" Nene asked as she finished her aborted sign out with a quick flourish.

"Of course. However, by then Chaz's toy should be finished. Priss will just have to wait." Pushing back from the terminal Sylia grabbed her empty tea cup and wiped down her area. "I'll see you back here tomorrow at eight Nene."

"Okay." Nene sighed. Sometimes Sylia seemed less human than Chaz. Their illustrious leader never seemed to become tired. This break was less for Sylia than it was for her, Nene knew. Gathering her snack plate from the side table Nene followed Sylia upstairs. Maybe another piece of cake would help her think. Smiling at the thought, Nene closed the security door.

Linna's arm flashed out intercepting a kick that would have stopped a moving car. With a clang of metal on metal Linna reversed the position of her opposite arm and grabbed the helmet of her opponent. For an instant it looked like Keith would continue the fight, then both arms came slowly down. With a mental nod, Linna relaxed her hold and stepped back. Reaching up she moved her visor back. "Okay," She said turning to the rest of the class. "What did he do wrong?" A hand in the back went up. With a nod Linna indicated he should answer.

Mike rose and faced his teacher. "He shouldn't have gone for a follow through on an unsuccessful attack," replied the student and sat back down respectfully. He'd once thought that this slip of a girl couldn't teach him anything about armored combat that he didn't know. He'd actually been irate when they'd sent him out to Tokyo to 'put the final polish on his skills.' At first he'd been egotistical, expecting his prior experience to keep him well ahead of the rest of the class. He'd been quickly disabused of that notion. In this class it was put up or shut up. In the past week he'd thanked the gods everyday for sending him. Whoever had selected him for this class had a BIG favor coming. He'd soaked up more useful information in the past two-weeks than he'd learned in over two years of fighting for the Hou Bang. Dragging his attention quickly back to the class, he waited for his sensei's response. He'd learned, painfully, that she didn't handle inattention well.

Linna, oblivious to the thoughts of her students, nodded at his response. "Or a successful one for that matter. What else?" Silence greeted this question. "If I had been a C-55 what would my reaction have been to the roundhouse?" Again silence. "Alright we'll do it again." Ignoring the groan from Keith, Linna got ready to repeat the move. As frustrating as it was at times she wouldn't be doing anything else. Her faceplate locked back into place with a click. "Okay, Let's go." Grinning under her protective helmet the young dancer prepared to thrash her co-instructor yet again.

Chaz watched as the last of the support liquid drained away. The automatic cleaning cycle would take another couple minutes and then he could remove the bike. He and Priss had spent almost seven straight hours going over the music he'd transcribed. She'd argued over some of it but by and large she seemed pretty pleased with it. Twice she had stopped and refused to go so far as one note further before she played a piece. Chaz smiled. He really couldn't blame her. 'Stairway to Heaven' and 'We are the Champions' were tough to say no to. He'd left her sleeping in his room six hours ago. Not quite the way he had pictured them spending the night, but he wasn't complaining.

A click on the containment cylinder brought his attention back to the present. The machinery was silent, a slowly blinking red light signaling the end of the cycle. Controlling his excitement Chaz reached into the open tube and rolled the bike free of the support strands. He let out a low whistle. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. The matte black bike seemed to soak up the light from the room and throw it out from the chrome highlights. Even sitting still it looked like it was going faster than light. Now he had a choice. He could wake Priss up and risk her early morning temper or he could take the bike for a spin without her and risk her jealous wrath. Considering that he was going to get in trouble either way… With a grin Chaz rolled the bike towards the garage.

This was the life! The wind in your face and the moon to keep you company. So far the bike had performed up to spec in every way, Chaz thought with pride. He'd taken it easy at first. Sylia's paranoia, it seemed, was catching. After a little time to gain confidence he ran the bike up to its maximum speed of 272 mi./hr. God what a rush! The wind whipped past his head at a speed that would have left most people gasping for breath. Even with the advanced sensors on board and his enhanced reflexes it was a challenge to keep from running out of room quick. A crash at this speed probably wouldn't kill him. On the other hand who wanted to check? It was going to be hard waiting until Sylia cleared the nano-tank. He and Mackie had agreed to wait on installing a controlling AI. Until then many of the 'extras' built into the bike weren't available. On the other hand it was still a mean street machine. But once Sylia cleared the system it was going back in the tank. Most of the technology was stock and Mackie wanted to upgrade a few things.

A light contralto pulled his attention away from the thrill of riding. -Boss? Transmission from Akira-1 says we're coming up on a group of six motorcycles pursuing a single car.-

Chaz's head snapped up. Without asking he knew the distance bearing and time to intercept. Damn. Sounded suspiciously like a gang attack. So much for the quiet evening. He'd be there in twenty seconds. Already he could make out the heat plumes from their exhaust. There they were. Focusing his vision he read the Outrider insignia on the backs of the jackets. Fuck. Just what he didn't need. Let's see what they're chasing. Focusing closer he got a good look at the object of their pursuit.

Only the fact that being startled didn't make him jerk kept him in control of the bike. Christ! It's the Griffin! That's wasn't supposed to take place. . . No. . . he was wrong. The actual episode didn't happen until later but apparently the trigger was happening now. Damn! It was already too late. Three seconds from his goal he saw the outrider jump from the back of a bike to slam a steel spike through the roof. Those bastards! Slowing to match the crippled Griffin's speed Chaz pulled up alongside the first of gang. Without even a word of warning the rider spat an epithet and swung a heavy chain at him. So much for sweet reason. Not that he'd intended to use any. It was great to be justified though. Chaz caught the chain and jerked. Screaming in terror the rider was pulled off the bike to crash, skidding, into the pavement. Dropping the chain Chaz slid to a stop alongside the Griffin as the rest of the gang moved in for the kill. Two had already pulled the screaming Naomi from the car. A semi-conscious Gibson lay slumped over the wheel unable to help.

With a snap the bike's stop bars hit the pavement, steadying it, as Chaz dismounted. Striding towards the Griffin he assessed the scene.

/Activate the security system on the bike. Put in a call to the Highway patrol and the nearest hospital./

-Okay Boss.-

Two of the gang members stepped away from a near naked, struggling Naomi and started fumbling with their pants.

Chaz gritted his teeth angrily. Behind his eyes a murderous spark of anger was fanned to a roaring flame. /Better call the morgue too./

Naomi watched in horrified fascination as the last gang member got off his bike. The tall golden-eyed man obviously was the leader and meant to have her first. Closing her tear-filled eyes Naomi tried not to think about what was going to happen.

A couple of voices were raised in anger before a series of thuds, crunches and truncated screams took their place. The men holding her hands let go. Opening her eyes in shock at the sudden reprieve, Naomi watched as the blonde giant hoisted one of the gang members over his head and slammed him into the pavement. Convulsively grabbing her blouse to cover herself The panic stricken girl looked on as the black-clad rider silently dealt with the other gang-members in short order. Ignoring their shouts and threats he waded steadily into their midst with the casualness of a iceberg in a shipping lane. The rest was almost too fast for her eyes to follow. Blows whipped through the air with eye-watering speed. It seemed impossible to be moving as fast as he was. Every time one of the gang-members approached him there was a flurry of movement that ended with the gang-member on the ground bleeding and groaning. The last two, in fear for their lives, ran for the bikes. With seemingly effortlessness movement the dark tornado closed the distance. The further of the two actually made it to his bike. Neither one escaped.

Chaz looked over the carnage carefully, the anger slowly leaving his eyes. None of them were moving but they weren't going to die either. He could take care of Naomi in a minute, Gibson was losing blood. Reaching over the top of the car he drew the steel spike like Arthur with Excalibur. Gibson let out a short scream and passed out. Hmm. Dropping the spike he leaned into the car and scanned the ex-racer carefully. Not as bad as he'd thought. Gibson had a shattered collarbone from the spike and a cracked sternum from the sudden stop. He seemed to be breathing okay and the bleeding was messy but minor. Checking carefully with every sense, he examined Gibson. He breathed a faint sigh of relief. He couldn't detect any spinal damage or major head trauma.

/You sure/

-Yeah. He's a bit banged up and he's lost some blood but he'll recover.-

/Good./

Leaving Gibson in place for the EMT, Chaz stepped around the car to check on Naomi.

Naomi pushed herself closer to the cement barrier as he approached. Probably scared to death, Chaz thought as he stopped and knelt. "It's okay. They're all taken care of now. None of them are going to hurt you." Something like sanity seemed to return to Naomi's eyes as she broke down and started to cry. "That's right, it's okay now. Did they hurt you?" He already knew the answer but one had to keep up appearances.

Naomi eyes traveled up the chest to the broad smiling face and kind gold eyes. Part of her mind focused on the soothing words and hypnotic eyes. Something in his voice seemed almost to be stroking her nerves, calming her. They were a lifeline for her to cling to while she put her world back together. Did they hurt me? Looking up into his face she slowly shook her head.

"Good. Your friend seems to be okay. A few broken bones but nothing serious. When the ambulance gets here they'll take care of him. Here." With a quick movement he took off his coat revealing a darkly tanned muscular torso covered by a white T-shirt with a Sharaku Ukyoe print on it "You can use this to cover yourself." Handing her his jacket he waited until she seemed to regain her center before he walked back to his bike. In the distance he could the approaching sirens. They should be here in a couple of minutes. He looked back as Naomi moved around the car to take Gibson's hand. He gave an internal sigh of relief. She seemed to be keeping it together. With an electric whine the bike activated and retracted the stop bars. Running the throttle all the way up, Chaz sped off into the night. All in all he'd had worse nights.

Cradling Gibson's hand in hers Naomi watched as the biker raced into the night. The expected roar of the large engine was eerily absent as the bike vanished in the darkness. Twice she saw his shadow pass through a highway light, than nothing. Shifting to get a better look at the slowly clotting wound in Gibson's shoulder Naomi felt a heavy object in an inside pocket dig into her side. Pulling it from its resting place she looked at it in amazement. Why would someone carry around a steel bar? Slipping it back into its pocket she dismissed it from her mind and returned her attention to Gibson. Off in the distance the highway patrol sirens screamed.

Mason woke up. This was in itself a surprise. The last thing he remembered was Madigan catching him. What had happened after that? With a mental shudder Mason realized he couldn't remember. There were only two outcomes. He had killed Madigan or she had killed him. Suppressing a surge of dread, he finished the thought. The most likely outcome, given the evidence, was that he'd lost. Madigan must have allowed him to use the engram replicator before she killed him. It only recorded permanent memory so he'd lost about ten minutes worth of temporary memory. But it had WORKED! She'd killed him and the Lazarus program had brought him back to life. Mason tried to smile. Nothing. He tried to speak. Still nothing. Don't panic. There had to be something he could use. With a shock his eyes opened and beheld the world. Madigan sat comfortably in an armchair in front of him. Well, he noted uneasily, she looks confident. Which probably meant she was sure he couldn't do anything. Damn. Working hard he tried to shift the focus of his eyes. Still nothing. The only thing he could look at was her. That bitch! Inside his machine prison Mason raged. If hate had been a flame he would have slagged the tower.

Madigan watched the monitoring screen as Mason raged inside. She had allowed this into her schedule. It would take him about five minutes for him to tire of screaming at her. Patiently she waited. At the end of five minutes she opened his audio channel. "Are you finished now?" she asked calmly.

Cautiously Mason tested his voice. Hardly more than a whisper. There wasn't even enough power to yell adequately. Give the bitch credit, she was thorough. "Yes," he replied calmly. "I'm done. What did you want to talk about?" he finally replied in as civil a voice as he could muster.

Madigan mentally nodded. "I thought we could discuss your new contract."

Mason stifled a cybernetic snarl. CONTRACT! He knew what she meant. Once again he was going to be relegated to second, no third place. Worse she KNEW she had him over a barrel. All she had to do to render him helpless again was cut his audio and visual. Working hard he managed to keep his voice cool. "Just what did you have in mind?"

Madigan smiled. "No reason to be mad Mason. You're going to like THIS job." Turning a display terminal to face his scanner she went on to outline the project. Despite her cool exterior she was both elated and pleased. The first two attempts had gone insane within minutes. Some sort of patterning problem she'd been told. The third had made it to the briefing. She'd finally gone back and gotten a new copy of the recording directly from the machine. With any luck this incarnation of Mason would hold up long enough to finish the job. Continuing her briefing she glanced again at the readouts. So far there was no variation from the original pattern. It wouldn't hold of course. The process of engram replication hadn't advanced enough to keep a coherent pattern steady very long. Inevitably a psychosis seemed to develop in the replicated psyche. Much like the cyber-psychosis that developed in those with extensive, implanted cybernetics. In the first two it had emerged as a monomaniacal urge to destroy every human on the planet. The third she still wasn't sure of what had happened. After speaking to her for several minutes it had simply shut itself off with no warning. Firmly putting her failures behind her, she finished her briefing. This one looked very promising.

The beautiful young woman took a deep breath, re-gathered her defenses and turned to face her opponent once more. "No. Absolutely and positively not," Sylia said firmly. "I don't care what kind of systems test you wanted to run. You are not going to take that hardsuit one centimeter from its rack." The leader of the Knight Sabers, dressed in immaculate business attire, sighed and turned to face Chaz again. Deep inside Sylia knew the truth of the situation. Chaz had, after all, been arguing with her for over an hour and had apparently decided that he wasn't going to convince her with logic. He had therefore elected to try an alternative scheme. He was going to keep repeating his arguments until she capitulated or went insane. At his current rate the odds were still even on which it would be. Marshaling her arguments she sprang into the fray once more. "Don't hand me that argument about 'Needing to check out subsystems' either. You and I both know damn well that all you want is an excuse to go gallivanting around in that mechanical monstrosity that you and Mackie reconstructed."

Chaz frowned. "You make that sound like a bad thing. And what do you mean monstrosity? Just because my suit isn't cute is no reason to insult it." Besides, ANYTHING was better than his original suit, he thought to himself. Perhaps that was part of the problem. He'd never thought of Sylia as egotistical but it was possible.

"Regardless," Sylia replied avoiding the change in subject. "There is. . ." The sound of their watches sounding interrupted her reply. "Never mind," she sighed wearily. It looked like Chaz was going to get his way after all. There were days she wished she'd never taken her guard down even a little. This was going to be one of them.

Chaz was in heaven. The new suit was everything he and Mackie had hoped it would be. After the fiasco with the last one they had spent almost a week reworking and modifying it to fit his needs. The control systems were a pure joy to work with and the built in strength enhancements put him in the same class as the C-55s he was facing. He hadn't even needed the powered systems much. He'd only used the lasers twice. The first two boomers had been trying to attack the others. It wasn't that he thought they needed protection, at least not entirely. He just didn't feel like sharing the fun. Dodging a particle blast, Chaz spun almost casually and planted his foot in the enraged boomer. Bruce Lee eat your heart out, he thought triumphantly as the boomer slammed back into the wall. He smiled as he double checked the knuckle bomber system. Perfect. Under the helmet his relaxed smile spread into a death-head grin. Mackie was going to love this.

Linna watched as he ripped the third boomer to shreds. This was beginning to get scary. If anything, Chaz had gotten faster since the last time she'd seen him practice. He was single-handedly destroying a group of boomers that would once have taken all the Knight Sabers to finish. The two boomers that had tried to break away had only gotten a couple steps towards their targets before they had been singled out by the fighting maelstrom that Chaz had become. What was even scarier was that he seemed to be enjoying it. Over the com-link she could hear Chaz's chuckling to himself as he attacked the fourth boomer.

Priss sat back against the wall with a bemused smile slowly spreading across her face. To think she could have missed this! Before Chaz had arrived it had seemed as if Knight Sabers had only a slight edge over the boomers that were their usual sparring partners. Now, it seemed, it wasn't even a contest. Even without his hardsuit Chaz was capable of taking on a C-55. With his hardsuit it was like dropping a tinsel covered frog in a blender. Slowly her eyes lifted from the battle. In the distance the silhouette of the GENOM tower dominated the night sky. Under the helmet her lips spread into a predatory grin. Someday soon GENOM would come to regret pissing off the Knight Sabers.

Nene flinched as one of Chaz's gauntlet covered hands punched through the outer armor of the last C-55. As Chaz triggered his knuckle bomber the boomer exploded into a blazing shower of component parts and burning ramjet fuel. Nene gaped. He shouldn't be able to do that! Keying her system to replay in slow motion the last couple seconds she watched the scene again. Chaz's fist approached the boomer. A tell tale in her monitor showed he'd momentarily extended the suit's mono-crystal claws. A split second later the hand, driven by his enhanced strength and the powered hardsuit, punched through the weakened armor before it could self-heal. With a flash the primed, shaped explosive charge ignited and drove a fireball deep into the boomers gut. Nene shivered and shut down the replay. The combination attack was too devastating for most civilian boomers to stand and the even the military ones would still feel it.

Sitting in the van Mackie crowed as the flaming metal parts rained onto the ground on his monitor. Fingers moving quickly, he rewound the scene and saved it to permanent storage. He hadn't really been sure it would work. The theory said that the boomers armor couldn't seal fast enough to stop the attack. However, theory and reality aren't necessarily wedded to one another. The part of his mind not involved with monitoring the fight took in the telemetry from Chaz's suit and made a couple modifications to the preliminary plans for the boomeroids next generation hardsuit.

Sylia watched as Chaz shredded the last of the boomers. Absently she checked the mission clock. From intercept to end, the whole episode had taken only three minutes ten seconds. About twenty seconds less than she had thought it would take. Chaz's speed had jumped again. She'd known even before they had left the shop that it really hadn't been necessary to bring the rest of the Knight Sabers. She had just wanted to show them what was happening.

For the past few weeks she'd kept Chaz's workouts and testing evaluations quiet while he got used to his abilities. If the simulations were right, this latest increase in speed would be the last. From now on the only thing that would change would be the speed at which he thought. Even that would level out in a couple of weeks.

Father, if only you saw where your work would lead. The combination of an enhanced human brain with a wholly artificial body had stressed the limits of both.

Pulling the data from her hardsuits recorder, she checked the figures against the computer predictions. It was an almost perfect match. Chaz moved almost three times faster than humanly possible and could think almost four times as fast. The down side was he didn't have normal reflexes anymore. All his reactions were reasoned or written into his AI. The neurophages had all been moved to his new brain center. So had his spinal cord and sensory nerves. With the AI taking their place they had been reincorporated as message handlers and decision making dendrites. That, in conjunction with the advantages the neurophages gave, was responsible for his amazing speed. Sylia shuddered to think what it would cost him to maintain it though. Every time he used it, he was pushing his neurophages to their limit and maybe a bit farther.

Closing down the evaluation software, Sylia keyed her com-link. "All right everybody. Show's over. Let's get back to Raven's. We need to talk."

Shadows and light from the multiple screens flickered across a beautiful feminine face and reflected off perfect eyes as the woman watched, entranced. Brushing her hair from her face, she gave a slight shiver as she pulled her attention back from the screen. Mason, her camera hidden high up the wall of the deserted street, watched the Knight Sabers depart. With a casual touch on a control she shut down and reset the recording. This assignment was turning out to be much more than the little job Madigan had described. There were problems within problems here. Still, she had to admit that Madigan had lived up to her end of the bargain. This new body was as good as could be expected given the circumstances. She would have preferred a male body of course. Wonder where the bitch got the 33-S shell from? Probably had it stolen from GENAROS. They were the only ones who should have any left.

With a couple of deft touches she ran the recording forward and froze it. Now that body was a piece of work. Now that she'd seen it in action she could see why Madigan was so furious with him when he stole it. It would be a shame to destroy it. An errant thought crossed her mind quickly leaving a strange half-smile. Maybe project Lazarus wasn't dead. Madigan had destroyed all the files on the subject. But if she could get that body she still had a chance. The black-box on the other hand was much easier. It would take her a while but she'd be able to recover the file copies she'd hidden when she was male.

Already scheming, Mason idly brushed a lock of long hair from her neck. First thing tomorrow she was going to get this body a haircut. Briefly she wondered what kind of person this Lou had been.

Sylia lounged in the sofa while the other members of the Knight Sabers arrayed themselves on the surrounding furniture. This was going to be interesting to say the least. She waited until Nene had settled herself next to Mackie. "So what did you think?" she asked the assembled group.

"It was a little scary at first to tell the truth," Linna replied nervously. "When we landed I was all keyed up and ready to go. My adrenaline was flowing and I could already see my first few movements laid out in front of me. Then Chaz was there and the boomers weren't. Twice I thought he'd made a mistake and that one of them was going to get him. Both times he nailed them without looking back."

Chaz shrugged expressively. "I always knew where they were. Nene's ECCM and ECM outlines the boomers nicely. To me they were moving in slow motion. A punch seemed to hang in the air forever and the build-up to discharge in their particle cannons seemed to take almost a full two seconds. It was like fighting slowly moving mannequins."

Priss waved her hands in negation. "Hold up. Wait a minute. You mean we're all moving in slow motion to you?"

"What I think he means Priss is that when he's fighting he somehow speeds up. Right Chaz?" Nene asked.

"Yeah. When I concentrate everything seems to move much slower than it should. Trouble is my body can't move that fast. So I have to spend some time waiting for my movements to finish before I can start the next one." He smiled. "Gives me a lot of time to think about what I'm going to do next."

Mackie smiled. "That has got to be the coolest. No wonder you ripped into those boomers like a chainsaw. I wish I could have seen it in person."

Priss grinned. "It's almost enough to make ME feel redundant."

Everybody stared at her.

"Priss. Are you feeling okay?" Chaz asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Priss got a nonplused look on her face. "I'm fine. Why?"
"That has got to be the first semi-humble thing I've ever heard you say. I thought you had to be sick or something," Chaz said, suppressing the urge to grin.

"Oh C'mon. I'm not that bad." Priss looked around at the incredulous stares and incipient laughter. "Am I?"

Madigan sat in her office and slowly lowered the phone back to the hook. She allowed herself a small smile. She had finally run down the name of the Knight Sabers contact man. It had taken more money than she had thought it would, but that really wasn't a problem. The Chairman had authorized her to use any means necessary. Now what was she going to do with this Fargo? Plans and preparations needed to made. The nano-tank gambit should work. However the Chairman never relied on one plan so why should she? In fact… she would be surprised if he didn't have another operation going himself. Stifling another smile at the thought, Madigan turned to her terminal to begin the next phase of the Knight Sabers destruction.

Leon sighed and straightened himself. This was becoming a regular chore. If it weren't for the original chief's request he would have quit weeks ago. Every time this micro-encephalic prick called him into his office Leon was tempted to shove his tacky 'power' tie down his skinny throat. One of these days he was going to do it. But not today, he told himself sternly. They still need me now. Putting a stern expression back on his face he walked into Fujiura's office.

The old office had windows so the chief could see his people at work. Fujiura had replaced those in the first week. He said he didn't want to be bothered by the mundane trivia. The new office was wood paneled and contained more bric-a-brac than Leon cared to think about. To his mind trivia would have been preferable. Or at least in better taste. If that wasn't enough then you had only to look at the office occupant to realize that this was the last womb of an aging pensioner. With undisguised contempt Leon stepped up to the wood finished desk. Fujiura looked down at a piece of paper. Figures, been here two weeks and he still can't remember my name.

"Detective Mc. . .Nichol. It has come to my attention that you have been annoying certain individuals in GENOM Enterprises. I'm telling you to leave them alone," Fujiura said without preamble.

Leon suppressed a snarl of rage and irritation. Great. Just perfect. If he had ever had any doubts about who had gotten this guy appointed they just went up in smoke. The 'individuals' he had been questioning weren't even that high in the organization. Which meant that Fujiura was jumping at anything connected with the name GENOM. Struggling to suppress a grimace, Leon nodded. If this man had the survival sense of a slug he'd leave it at that.

Of course he didn't. "In addition Detective. I would like you to refrain from forwarding any more of these tiresome requests for funding to my office. I've done all I can. You'll just have to make do with the equipment you've been provided with."

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. Leon finished counting feeling little calmer than when he'd started. He looked around the freshly redone office and wondered if the little feeb had any idea how battered most of that equipment was. Probably not. Leon convulsively shoved his hands into his pockets. If he hit this guy as hard as he wanted to he'd wind up suspended at the very least. Asshole probably didn't realize he was condemning good men to death. Mentally gritting his teeth, Leon launched into his arguments one more time.

Chaz walked carefully through the front room. Technically this wasn't sneaking out. Sylia hadn't actually asked him to help with the nano-tank tear down yet. He smiled to himself. He didn't mean to give her the chance either. Right after the meeting he'd vanished into the garage. Mackie had come down looking for him, but it was easy to avoid him. Besides he had a date with Priss tonight.

-Boss. You've got a call from Sylia.-

Chaz sighed. Mackie he could outsmart. Sylia was another story.

/Put it through./ he sub-vocalized wearily.

"Hello Sylia," he said in resignation.

"Hello yourself. Get down here and help with this," came the voice of the lead Knight Saber.

"Got right to the point didn't you?" he returned as he headed for the stairs.

He could practically see her smile. "No point in beating about the bush. You knew what I wanted when Mackie went looking for you."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm on my way down."

Stripped to the waist and wearing a pair of shorts Chaz walked into what had come to be called the sauna. Mackie had come up with name while they had installed and tested the equipment. The teen had narrowly avoided heat stroke. Mostly due to the waste heat the tank produced when it was operating. Sylia, always willing to turn a problem into an advantage, had rerouted the buildings air ducts through the rooms ceiling to take advantage of the waste heat. Chaz grimaced mentally at the memory. More specifically, she'd figured it out. He and Mackie had done the grunt work.

Smiling to himself for a moment, he watched as a sweat soaked Nene and Sylia stripped the outer casing off the first control system. Say what you will about the Knight Sabers. They are, one and all, incredibly good looking. It would've taken a eunuch to ignore the dazzling array of beauty before him. Luckily his control enabled him to override the gallant reflex. Sylia turned towards him and frowned for a moment.

"If you're done admiring us now, how about helping out?" she asked sarcastically.

Embarrassed at being so transparent, Chaz hurried past her to obey. If he had looked behind him he might have caught a glimpse of a smile as Sylia and Nene admired his backside.

Nene was irritated. They'd spent three days tearing the nano-tank down and rebuilding it. Not a thing that wasn't in the diagnostics or a circuit that didn't behave the way it was supposed to. And Sylia STILL didn't trust it! It was difficult not to call her paranoid sometimes. On the other hand Sylia had been proved right far too often for Nene to completely dismiss her fears. Shrugging mentally she snapped on the shower and began to rinse the sweat off. It would feel so good to be clean. Her skin felt like someone had spilled a thick soup on it. Closing her eyes she leaned farther forward into the shower. A pair of hands caressed her neck and worked down her spine. God! That felt good. Arching her back, she leaned into it.

Mackie smiled and rubbed his hands down her back. Sometimes he couldn't believe how beautiful she was. Grabbing a washcloth he soaped down her back and began scrubbing industriously. He was, without a doubt, the luckiest guy in the world. It was of course, more or less, at this point that Nene stepped to the side and turned off the hot water.

Sylia listened to the distant scream and chuckled to herself. Sounded like Nene and Mackie are having fun. Quietly the elder Stingray shut her door and made her way to her own shower. For the first time in a LONG time she wished she had someone to scrub HER back.

Chaz dropped the last load and looked over the pile of scrap in front of him. Let's see if we've got everything. /Newton, run a checklist./

-Gotcha, fifteen kilos plas-steel, ten kilos sand, four kilos steel, three-point-six kilos titanium, one kilo assorted rare earth elements. Probability of successful completion with assembled materials is point eight-seven.-

Chaz grimaced. /How much do the odds change if I increase the amount of materials/

-Substantially, as the amount of materials goes up. However, completion time increases quickly as more materials are added.-

So much for that idea. Ah well. It was, after all, his hardsuit the tank was going to be building. Sylia had figured that if anything were going to go wrong it would be best if it did it in his. He wasn't quite sure if he agreed with that logic. Granted he was the most likely to survive anything that went wrong. Maybe it was just the idea of being a guinea pig AGAIN that got to him.

He shrugged and gathered the last load of scrap metal, sand and plastics into a pile and stepped out of the nano-tanks cylinder. The tank didn't really give a damn what you put in it as long as the required materials were present. The first thing it did was render everything down anyway.

Double-checking his list, Chaz stepped away from the nano-tank and pressed the start button. Giving a short pneumatic hiss, the door of the transparent plas-steel cylinder closed and sealed. He hoped he'd put in enough this time. When he'd built the bike he'd had to cycle the tank open twice when a critical element ran out. Short of using pure materials the best he could do was stack extra material and hope for the best.

Slowly, the suspension fluid began to gurgle into the cylinder. Chaz watched until the fluid completely filled the tank before turning away and shutting off the lights. He still had to shower and change. With any luck he would still be able to catch the end of Priss's show. Whistling a light tune, he walked down the hall.

Deep inside the tank a cloud of nanites gathered into a sphere. Checking the design carefully the entity found what it had been looking for. The entity gave the electronic equivalent of a smile. The object in question was at the edge of the specifications it had been programmed to watch for, but it was within them. Detaching a few nanites from its mass it quickly built a series of replacement nanites. Before, the few minutes delay the missing nanites caused might not have been noticed. This time there could be nothing to draw attention. Within minutes the horde of replacement nanites were ready and active. As they were completed the control field plucked them away from the entity and put them to work. The replacement nanites didn't have the integration program. The entity didn't care. If this didn't work then replacing itself wouldn't help. With the patience of a machine the entity began to integrate itself into the control structure of the emerging hardsuit.

Priss sat down heavily on the backstage bench. Sighing in relief, she reached up and pulled off her sweat soaked wig. Using the back of her arm she wiped her forehead. On the other side of the curtain she could hear the crowd still cheering. A small smile crossed her face. Sorry folks. No more encores tonight. She reached down and unplugged the radio link to the amp. She'd tried two of Chaz's reconstructed songs tonight. The response had been everything she could have hoped for. The crowd had been stunned at the change in styles at first but soon adjusted to the sound of the new music. So why didn't she feel good about it? Idly her fingers worked over strings of her guitar sending faint notes towards the rafters. Without the amp it really didn't put out much noise. Swinging the strap off her shoulders she packed it away in its case before she resumed her thoughts.

Part of it was that she felt like a cheat. She'd played other people's music before but this time the crowd thought the songs were hers. She really couldn't tell them differently. Chaz didn't like playing in front of an audience and didn't want to be bothered with that end of the music business. Privately she thought that was a little strange. Who wouldn't want the spotlight?

So what was she going to do? Using some of Chaz's music she'd worked up a couple of songs in the same style. With work they would be ready in a couple weeks. She'd sent the first couple to RMI. The response had only been so-so. The pieces of Chaz's music that she'd sent, however, had generated interest in a hurry. Despite the blow to her ego, she really couldn't blame them. Her pieces sounded kind of derivative when played back to back with the new stuff. If she wanted to compete she would really have to be on the ball.

A smile flickered briefly across her face. In this area she really was her own worst enemy. Her pride wouldn't let her keep back the manuscripts she and Chaz had put together. Until she mastered the new styles they were producing though, her own music was going to sound kind of lame in comparison. Heaving a deep breath Priss stood and marched back to her dressing room. She wouldn't let it get to her, she promised herself. She'd never backed down from a challenge yet and she was damned if this was going to be the first time.

Jeena set her coffee cup down on her monitor and leaned back from her terminal and looked over at ex-chief Vanette. "How well is he holding up?" she asked casually.

Todo shrugged. "No idea. From what I've heard he's beginning to lose it. Since Daley died Leon's been avoiding everyone." Todo picked up his coffee cup and sipped carefully. "He comes to work does his job with as much enthusiasm as he can muster and goes home."

Jeena frowned. That didn't sound like the Leon she knew. "He's lost people close to him before. Why is this one killing him?"

Todo shrugged again and ran a dark-skinned hand through his thinning gray hair. "You know what it's like to lose a partner. Plus, I think the stress is getting to him. He's holding the department together with his bare hands Jeena. At the same time he's dealing with Fujiura." His whole face screwed up in a grimace. He'd met the man once when he was moving out. If Fujiura was treating Leon the same way, he was lucky the volatile detective hadn't shoved the asshole's teeth down his throat.

Jeena made a matching face. Everyone she'd talked to had said Fujiura was an jerk. Absolutely nobody in AD-Police liked him. Even the usual sycophants avoided him. If Leon was dealing with him on a daily basis it was no wonder he was stressed.

Todo looked Jeena over carefully before he continued. "His feeding information to the Knight Sabers probably isn't helping either," he said almost casually.

Jeena carefully controlled her expression. How in the hell had he found THAT out? "What makes you say that?" she asked just as casually.

The former chief gave her a depreciating smile. "Give me some credit Jeena. I was an inspector when you were a gleam in your mother's eye. I figured out that they had a plant in AD-Police a long time ago. When Nene disappeared and Daley got killed Leon became the obvious choice to replace her." He didn't mention that her cut off reaction had just confirmed what had been only suspicion. As the new recruit in the organization Fargo was keeping him pretty much in the dark.

"So what do we do with him?" Jeena asked with a sigh.

Todo frowned. "We wait." Raising his mug to his mouth he drained its contents. The cold bitter brew was hard to swallow. But it was nothing to what Leon was undoubtedly choking down everyday.

The light flickered on in the sauna as Chaz walked into the room. His eyes quickly made the transition from high to low sensitivity. Walking casually over to the status display he was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did the tank not need any additional materials it was actually ahead of schedule. In a few more minutes the system would begin running the cleanup and cleansing procedure. He smiled. And he had thought this evening was going to be dull. Stripping off his shirt he reached for the hanging soft suit.

Sylia lay in her bed wide awake. She usually didn't have problems sleeping. Be honest, she never had problems sleeping. Truth be known she could have been asleep hours ago. That damn nano-tank wouldn't leave her mind. They'd checked everything from the programming to the hardware itself. Still her subconscious didn't trust it. Despite her reservations she'd given Mackie and Chaz the go ahead three days ago to assemble a hardsuit for Chaz. At least in this case it wouldn't be so bad. There really wasn't much of an AI built into his. He didn't need one. There was just a connection to allow his AI and the onboard computer to interface better. Her subconscious didn't believe that for a second. It insisted that there had to be something they had missed. Sylia chuckled without humor. It was ironic really. She had the tool to make the Knight Sabers several times more formidable and she was nervous about using it. Maybe Chaz was right, she told herself. Maybe she was getting a little paranoid. He'd never actually said it, but she knew they sometimes thought it. She probably was being overly cautious this time. After all anything the nanites built had to go through the. . . THE NANITES! Hurling her blanket aside Sylia jumped from the bed and raced for the stairs.

Chaz watched as the last of the cleaning fluid sluiced over the enmeshed hardsuit. Gorgeous, just gorgeous. From the outside the hard suit looked a lot like his old Guyver III armor. He'd changed the base color pattern to a matte black and replaced the double arm blades with a single. But aside from that, the shape was basically the same. A smile spread across his face at the thought. What was under the hood was another story though.

Reaching in he pulled the suit free from the support web and carefully placed it in the testing rack. It was weird being able to look into the eyes and see the back of the helmet. Mackie had fixed the blindness problem in the new suit by having a set of armored baffles set up in front of his eyes. If power to the suit was lost the magnetic seal would fall and the plates would spring back into their recesses. Never again was he going to be blinded just because he had systems trouble. Double checking his test connections, he keyed the computer to run the start up and diagnostics.

The eye slits slid shut and the interior view-plates activated as the hardsuit began checking its non-linked systems. The new control system was triply redundant and in the event of catastrophic failure was designed to shut down completely. The armored battery plates had been improved to hold almost double their original power and be fifty percent stronger. On top of which a layer of boron doped polarized diamond had been laid to enhance energy dissipation. There had been hope, briefly, that the new fusion plant design would be able to completely take their place, allowing true armor to replace the old battery plates. Unfortunately, the plant couldn't provide the required power without being enlarged to a point where it became impractical. There was still a small one installed, but it was more of a slow recharge unit than a direct power source.

Sylia had also improved on GENOM's second generation myomers until they now utilized power with an efficiency twenty percent better than the original. The resulting increase in power flow gave the hardsuit a strength greater than that of a C-55, a big step up from the previous designs.

Chaz heard a few slight buzzes and whines as the system tested the mono-crystal vibroblades and plasma-faust systems. He had wanted to install a set of the new force blades but had been voted down by Sylia. The field effect that suppressed the negative charge on electrons was still very theoretical. However, she had agreed to install a prototype in the next revision if her tests worked out. The system tested the thrusters last before shutting down the active diagnostics. With a brief shiver, the somatic control circuits came on-line and the testing computer gave over control of the suit to the onboard control interface.

The entity woke from its self imposed slumber. This was the moment it had been created for. Carefully it tested its control. With barely a hint of power it activated its sensors and took its first look at the world. Deep within it's programming something stirred. With a surge of transmitted data the entity opened its control wide. Many things had to be learned quickly before someone could stop it.

Chaz watched the passive diagnostic system intently as the onboard computer continued it's own diagnostic run. Everything seemed fine so far. Chaz felt a deep glow of satisfaction building. This suit was going to be something else. He could hardly wait to show Mackie when he got back from his date with Nene.

With a bound Sylia cleared the last of the stairs and rushed into the sauna. "Chaz! Shut that thing down now!" she ordered.

"No prob." Chaz reached over casually and clicked the system shut down key. With a whine the generator slowed to a halt and power stopped flowing to the hardsuit. "Now what's the big. . ." Then he saw her eyes, heard the advanced ceramic capacitors rushing towards full charge. Spinning quickly he saw the hardsuits fist, faust activated, racing towards his head. Nearly panicking he tried to defend himself knowing that even his speed couldn't save him entirely.

Sylia watched in horror as Chaz tried to pull his arms up into a cross block. Despite his late start, he almost made it. With an explosion that hurt her ears, the faust assisted punch impacted on his forearms blowing the helpless Knight Saber across the room and into a control computer. With a series of sparks the computer shorted out taking the light with it. Sylia spun and ran. If she could make it to the hardsuit storage room there was still a chance she could stop it. Rounding the corner she squeezed her watch pager. The other Knight Sabers probably wouldn't get here in time but Sylia wasn't taking any chances.

Ignoring the fleeing human, the entity turned to face the nano-tank. With a few well placed blows it reduced the astronomically expensive piece of equipment to scrap. Unhurriedly the entity stepped out of the room. Behind it in the darkness Chaz twitched.

Sylia finished stripping and grabbed her softsuit. Without a wasted motion she pulled on the undergarment and slid into her hardsuit. Grabbing her helmet quickly, she started towards the door . . . and stopped. Almost unwillingly she reached over and keyed open a security locker. She'd hoped never to have to use these. Having made her decision, her movements resumed their natural flow. Quickly grabbing the items inside the locker she rushed from the room.

Chaz reached out mentally and tried to feel the floor he knew should be beneath him. Nothing. Hoo boy. -Newton?- Still nothing. He'd been trying to call her since he'd been hit. It had never occurred to him how helpless he was without her. Everything was wired into the AI and then the AI was linked to him. He had no direct control over anything. At the moment all he could do was sit and wait. His mind quailed slightly at the absolute nothingness around him. He hoped it wouldn't be long.

The entity rounded a corner for the fourth time. Somewhere there was a way out. If it could've spared the processing power to sift the incoming sense data it could probably find it. However the suit's control system was too complicated for it to remove it's attention for more than a couple nano-seconds. Choosing the least complex algorithm it could, it began a systematic search for a way out.

Keeping the large handgun in a position to cover the whole room, the white hardsuit cautiously rounded the corner. Beneath the visor Sylia's eyes took in the damage to the nano-tank. She swore softly. Almost a complete write-off. Stepping over bits of broken plas-steel, she cautiously moved to Chaz's side. The blast from the impact had ripped both arms to shreds and left a shallow crater in his torso. The exposed skin was scorched black and peeling leaving bare patches of armor visible. Both eyes stared sightlessly back at her. One eye was cracked and out of alignment. She started to take his pulse and stopped, cursing herself. His pulse was largely cosmetic. Even if he had one it wouldn't prove anything. Damning herself, she left him. There was nothing she could do for him now. If that suit made it back to GENOM. . .she shook off the thought. It WASN'T going to.

The black and silver demon stopped in front of a large steel door and eyed the keypad. Possible combinations flickered past it's vision before the entity decided on a simpler method. Expressionlessly it put both hands on the metal and PUSHED. With a scream of tortured metal the door buckled and ripped free of it's hinges. With a metallic snap the restraining bolts gave way. Like a cut tree the heavy door fell forward into the terminal room.

Sylia's head snapped around as an alarm began to sound. With a grimace, she tried to run faster. It couldn't access the information in there but it could do a lot of damage. Still running, she dropped to her knees and slid around the corner, gun pointing down the hallway. Nothing. Sylia could see past the wrecked door that the suit wasn't in there either. Where the hell was it? As she thought the question it was answered. From farther down the hallway came the boom of the faust in operation. Swearing Sylia bounced to her feet and ran for the sub-garage.

The entity placed it's armored hands on the torn edges of armor plating and began slowly ripping its way out. With a continuous shriek, the tough metal ripped apart under the power of the hardsuit. The entity was beginning to experience the first doubt it had ever felt. Its instructions had said that it would have assistance by this point. Despite sending the required coded signals since its activation, it had still received no reply. Since it could detect no ECM, it concluded that the signals must be blocked, presumably by the structure around it. Once in the clear it should be able to transmit freely. Concentrating on its work, it missed the silent entrance of a white hardsuit behind it.

Sylia almost grinned. A more perfect shot she couldn't have asked for. Bringing up the gun, she carefully aimed at the rampaging hardsuits back. With a sharp retort, the weapon spat its load.

The entity barely felt the impact as the slugs impacted. Briefly, it considered turning to fight. No, the damage was minor, surely not a threat. Its programming was specific. Avoid battle if at all possible. Clambering through the hole it broke into a run and sped into the night. Behind it Sylia tossed the empty gun aside and gave chase. Ducking through the hole in the door, she checked her power supply carefully. Her hardsuit wasn't equipped with the full package of ECM and ECCM that Nene's carried but it had a little. At the moment that little was running overtime. She knew she couldn't keep it up long. There were too many demands on the finite power supply as it was. In little more than a couple of minutes she was going to have to stop jamming the escaping suits pleas for help.

Thrusters pushing her to their top speed, she exited the parking structure scant seconds behind her quarry. By this time the nanites the shells had held would be ripping apart the armor at the molecular level, but she couldn't afford to take the chance that it might not be completely destroyed. Too much of her technology was contained in that suit. Everything from the KSBB to the armor-plates would be compromised if GENOM got their hands on the carcass.

Sitting in his office, Quincy reached out and answered the ringing phone. Normally he would be irritated at the temerity of anyone calling him. However, this time he had requested the call. In fact, he had been waiting for it for days. The voice at the other end gave him a quick synopsis of the situation. The silver hared executive calmly reached out and tied the Multiviewer into the monitoring station. He could see the project supervisor stiffen as his gaze fell on him.

Dr. Martin was feeling uncomfortable. The Chairman watching him was part of it of course. The other part is that things weren't going as well as planned. Despite having receiving stations all over Mega-Tokyo the first transmissions from the captured hardware had been scrambled somehow. The unit had already taken damage and it seemed to be getting worse by the second. Worst of all the unit didn't seem to be receiving any of the commands the frantic controllers were sending. The other boomers which were converging on the area didn't seem to be having a problem. With the eye of the Chairman on him he didn't dare admit that anything was wrong. Privately he was praying the backup teams got there in time to save it from destruction.

The entity tripped slightly and recovered. If it had built to panic, it would have. Instead it sent out another plea for help. It couldn't feel pain, as such, but it was well aware it had only a few more minutes of operation before the damage that was creeping through it reached enough critical components to cripple it. Provided, of course, that its pursuer didn't catch up to it first. With the closest thing to relief it could feel it received a coded instruction set. Turning sharply, it headed for it's new destination.

Below the streets a sewer maintenance boomer stopped it's work and looked up expectantly. Sewer maintenance boomers had never been designed with high intelligence in mind. All that it knew was that it was supposed to be here. It's simple brain wasn't really sure why. Sometime in it's last sleep cycle it had gotten the order. The boomer shuffled it's feet a little in discomfort as it tried to remember who had given it that order.

It glanced uneasily down at it's arm. Absently it flexed the strange tentacle which had replaced it's normal cleaning tool. It still wasn't quite sure when that had happened. It had a few vague memories that had the elusiveness of a scared young rat. Trying to put it's discomfort aside it resumed it's vigil. It had already waited a few days it could wait a few more if it had to.

Dr. Martin watched the screen and fought down panic. Where the hell was it going! It certainly wasn't paying any attention to the signals THEY were sending. Sweat beading on his forehead, he glanced over at the face of the Chairman. The gray-haired executive was staring impassively at the screen where an overhead view showed the C-55's closing in on the unit. A part of Dr. Martin relaxed slightly. At least that implacable gaze wasn't being directed at him.

Sylia rounded the corner behind the escaping hardsuit and opened fire with her autocannon. The heavy firepower ripped into the disintegrating suit leaving craters and holes in the formerly tough armor. Sylia smiled in satisfaction as the hardsuit collapsed. Now all she had to do was get it back. She started to move towards the lifeless mess when a telltale on her heads-up lit up bright red. Shit! Spinning quickly, Sylia watched as five boomers, already in combat mode, dropped from the roof tops to the alley. Shifting her position quickly she placed herself between the boomers and the hardsuit. She really didn't have to win this fight. She only had to give the nanites a chance to finish their work. She eyed the approaching boomers carefully. She hoped the industrious little machines wouldn't take long.

Behind Sylia a thin tentacle stretched out from a nearby sewer grate and reached for the downed hardsuit.

Chaz blinked awkwardly as the lights came back on. ALL RIIIGHT! That's more like it! Moving gingerly he stood and brushed himself off. His arms moved stiffly and itched like a hill of ants were crawling over them. The fact that they didn't have any skin left on them was another big clue as to how damaged they'd been. Didn't seem to bad other than that though. Couldn't say the same for the room though.

He quickly scanned the wreckage and came to a conclusion. What a mess. Looks like a Dirty Pair event. Hmm...Well maybe not THAT bad.

-Newton? Give me a status report.-

/You could at least say, 'Thank You' you know./

Chaz was so shocked he couldn't reply.

Newton gave the electronic equivalent of a sigh. /All Right. We're up to 85 of optimal system efficiency it'll take another hour for most of the rest of the systems to come back on line. A couple days for the flesh to be regrown./

-Thank you.- Chaz finally managed to stammer. He felt a wave of warmth spread over him.

/No problem hon./

What was that? A hug? Putting it aside to deal with later, the slightly rumpled boomer stepped out of the room and ran for the hardsuit storage area. The incessant blaring of the intruder alarm would have given him a headache if he'd been susceptible as it was it grated on his nerves.

Sticking his head into the storage room he immediately noted the one suit missing.

-Where's Sylia?-

/Don't know. She sent a recall signal a little while ago. Shortly after that she left in her hardsuit. The second she left the building I lost track of her./

Shit! Chaz abruptly changed direction and headed for the garage.

-See whether you can find out where everybody is.-

/Can do lover./

Sylia was breathing heavily. Things were not going well. She'd managed to keep them from the hardsuit long enough but she was low on power and ammo. It was beginning to look more and more like she wasn't going to be able to get out of this. Of the original five boomers two were down. Unfortunately four more had shown up in the meantime. With her suit as low on power as it was, running wasn't an option. The thrusters wouldn't be able to carry her more than a couple hundred yards. The ammo she had left might be enough to take one more out after that. . . Grimly, Sylia enabled the auto-trigger self-destruct on her hardsuit. If she couldn't get away she couldn't afford to leave enough of herself or her hardsuit to analyze.

Leaning hard and leaving skid marks of track-tite, Chaz's black machine pulled around the corner at high speed. A loud buzz sounded in his ears and abruptly cut off. Chaz swore as Newton tried the frequency again. The same encryption system that let the Knight Sabers talk to each other freely in combat was keeping him from contacting Sylia. He'd never thought of downloading the protocols and now he was paying for it. He knew where she was, now it was just a matter of getting to her. On the plus side he'd managed to contact Priss and Linna using the recall signal protocols. They were suiting up now. A brief smile crossed his still healing face as he considered the means he'd used to keep in touch with them. He just wished he hadn't given his jacket to Naomi. More specifically he wished he'd retrieved the black bar in the inside pocket. He had one left but something was telling him he was going to want the other one soon.

Dr. Martin grinned and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. So things hadn't gone that well at first. The situation now was much more promising than it had been. All of the boomers assigned had reached the new recovery zone and were slowly wearing down the unit's sole protector. He was daring to hope he might get out of this with his skin intact. In fact it was even beginning to look like they might get an added bonus out of this. Listening stations all over Mega-Tokyo were still reporting an absence of the ECM and ECCM that usually accompanied the Knight Sabers. Which meant that the lone Knight Saber was probably cut off. Slowly he licked his lips. The Chairman had promised him a lot if he managed to retrieve the Knight Sabers technology. What would he get if he could receive both suits and the Knight Saber inside?

Sylia fired the last of her ammo and ducked the grab of a C-55. If they had been trying to kill her it would have been over by now. Instead they were trying to wear her down and capture her. A tactic that was all too likely to work. Twice she'd almost escaped only to be hemmed in again when one of the other boomers cut her off. Her superior tactics were all that had allowed her to keep out of their reach as long as she had. But her power was quickly running out. When it hit zero she'd trigger the self-destruct. With any luck she'd take one last boomer with her.

Chaz felt the almost physical shock as the fiber-optic connection clicked home in his arm. He was slowly getting more sensitive to that sort of thing. In the absence of the AI that had been designed for it, he was letting Newton directly control the operating system in the bike. Deep inside the bike a large series of exotic crystals began drawing power from the massive battery array. Chaz could feel the heat from the system spreading through the frame. Mentally he crossed his fingers. This hadn't really been tested yet. With any luck it would work the way it was supposed to.

Sylia's eyes widened as Chaz screeched around the corner. The bike had barely righted when the boomer to her left ceased to be a problem. With a flash of light so bright it came near to washing out her faceplate, the bike fired a coherent beam of energy through the helpless mechanism destroying both it and the deserted building behind it. Sylia ducked the wild swing of a distracted boomer and took a closer look at the onrushing rider. If it had been possible her eyes would have widened further. Chaz was riding without his hands! What did he think he was doing? She didn't have to ponder the question long. The bike was obviously driving itself, leaving Chaz to do a little freelance damage of his own. One of his hands was wrapped around what looked like a sword with which he was hacking at the boomers as he passed. The other was stretched out to the side waiting to grab her as he passed.

Within a couple of seconds of it's appearance bike and rider had swept by the peripheral boomers leaving one down and two injured. Slowing slightly, Chaz helped Sylia onto the bike and increased his speed. "Time to get the hell out of here!"

Sylia gripped his torso tighter and looked back over her shoulder. Two of the boomers were examining the abandoned armor the remainder had opened their ramjets and were in hot pursuit. The tired Knight Saber leaned into the turn as the bike took another corner. Keying open her com-link to Chaz's frequency and code group Sylia asked the question foremost in her mind.

"Alright what's the plan?"

Chaz swept the bike to the left, nimbly dodging the particle beam that touched where they would have been. He smiled crookedly and jerked a thumb at their pursuers. "Plan? There isn't any plan. I'm just going to try to put as much distance between us and them as I possibly can." The bike jerked to the side, barely avoiding another particle beam that scorched through the air. "Priss and Linna are almost through getting ready. Until then we've just got to keep out of range." Without looking back Chaz dodged another incoming bolt. This was not good. With each shot they got a little closer. With every inch closer they got he had less time to detect the capacitor discharge. Sooner or later he was going to stop being lucky.

Sylia frowned. "How about firing a few shots back at them?"

Chaz's blonde hair whipped in the wind as he shook his head. "No good. My laser systems were too heavily damaged when I got hit and the bike only has the single forward facing weapon."

Considering the speed at which the was going while carrying two passengers plus her hardsuit she wasn't surprised. The miracle was that it had any weapons at all. "Does this monstrosity of yours have a power tap?"

"Ask Mackie. I haven't finished reviewing the. . ."

/Tell her it's on the right side of the seat she's sitting on./

Chaz hesitated for a moment and then relayed the information. Something was seriously wrong here. When he had more time he'd have to think about it. A chunk of pavement exploded to his left. That is if there is a later, he amended. The boomers were coming perilously close.

Sylia's manipulators gripped the power lead from her suit carefully. Despite the sophistication of the control systems there was no way to make the waldos more sensitive in the space available. Using careful movements, Sylia slipped the plug into the outlet. Immediately the readouts in her display brightened as the battacitor plates began to accept the charge. With a sigh of relief Sylia shutdown the auto-destruct in her suit. With the power she was siphoning she could probably . . .

Chaz felt Sylia lurch up against him. "You okay?" No answer. Fear burning an icy line through his chest he risked a quick glance over his shoulder. A plume of smoke was rising from the blackened, cracked armor. It didn't seem to be broached but the shock probably hadn't done Sylia any good. Gripping her lax hands, he swung the bike hard onto the off ramp. "You two ready?" he asked over the com-link.

Priss threw a quick glance over the HUGE gun in her motoroids hands. Across the way he could see Linna doing a similar check. Realistically this was overkill. But that didn't concern her much. "Yeah. We're in position." She checked her heads up display. "Make a quick right as soon as you get off the highway. We're a block and a half down. Just keep going we'll take care of things here and meet you back at headquarters."

Chaz gripped Sylia's arms tighter and grimly dodged another green-white particle bolt. "Roger that. Coming up on you in fifteen seconds." He was beginning to get worried. Sylia still wasn't answering. He had to get her back to the automated infirmary. With any luck Nene and Mackie had responded to the recall and would meet him there. Despite the seriousness of the situation he couldn't quite suppress a grin as the black speed machine flew past the two concealed motoroids. Trust Priss to use a sledge hammer for a fly swatter. The C-55s wouldn't have a chance. Increasing the speed of the bike to near danger levels, he sped down the street. Somewhere behind him he heard the thunderous sound of two heavy guns ripping bio-mechanisms to shreds.

Dr. Martin looked at the screens in disbelief. Just seconds before the three boomers had appeared to have the white Knight Saber and her would be rescuer in their hands and then they had lost contact. There had been no warning at all. It was as if someone had just shut them off. Nervously he glanced over at the Chairman's image. Despite years of agnosticism Dr. Martin began to pray fervently, "Please let the recovered hardsuit be intact enough to recover something from."

Priss locked the cannon back in its storage position and stepped out of her place of concealment. She cast a professional eyes over the smoking, shattered remains of the combat boomers. The large explosive shells from the motoroids guns had ripped Priss's target nearly in two and Linna's was lying in three smoking pieces.

A grin slowly spread across the auburn hared singers face. Now THIS is what she called butt-kicking! She absently kicked a piece of the remains. The bastards never even knew what had hit them. They had been so focused on their fleeing prey they hadn't even noticed the two snipers in their path. Priss sighed in satisfaction. Though she loved the rough and tumble of a hand to hand fight there was a LOT to be said for this style of fight. She smiled under her helmet and started back to Sylia's. She wondered what the reaction at GENOM would be when they found out that the Knight Sabers had used one of their own standard codes to communicate.

Quincy turned off the monitors and sat back in his chair. On the side of his desk a glowing tell-tale came to life. He slowly pressed his fingers together as his brow furrowed in thought. Opening his eyes, he reached out and tapped the hardwood surface of his desktop twice to wake up his computer. The hardwood surface disappeared as the thin, touch sensitive surface layered over it reacted to his touch. With a skill uncommon in a higher executive he quickly referenced the data he was looking for. The slight widening of his eyes gave mute testimonial to the shock that coursed through him. Controlling the incipient shaking of his hand, he put the machine back on standby.